This may be as succinct a description of human existence as I've ever seen:
With Paper Hats Still on Our Heads
The check is being added up in the back,
As we speak.
That’s why we don’t see any waiters
Prowling around here anymore.
The rustle of bill you’re counting
Makes me think of grass
Being mowed with a scythe in a graveyard
I don’t reckon it’ll be enough.
Dip your finger in what’s left of the red wine
And let me suck on it slowly.
I wish they’d at least clear the dirty plates.
No prices on the menu
Should’ve been an instant tip-off.
Chitterlings in angel gravy,
How in the world did we ever fall for that?
Love of my life, start your jive.
~ Charles Simic, from Night Picnic